We go to Stillwater this afternoon for the wedding of a former co-worker. It is a welcome break from all of the "newness" of Owasso/Tulsa that has flooded us for the past week and a half. If ever there was a city I felt comfortable in, it is Stillwater. Even though I haven't lived there in almost 10 years, I still feel at home as soon as I drive into town.
And, no, it's not just because of all the orange and black.
I've teased Alice for a while about referring to Nebraska as "home" in casual conversations. Oklahoma is "home" now, not the Cornhusker state. But, as I've mentioned recently, to some degree even that is not true.
Jesus said, "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."
Part of why I can't feel at home here on earth is because my treasure system is in direct opposition to the world's. The world says to go to college, get a degree, and work your way up the corporate ladder (60 hours a week? 70? 80?) until you achieve financial success. Along the way, use those riches (along with a lot of credit cards and loans) to buy nice cars, big houses, fancy furniture, and lots of toys (also referred to as "the finer things"). Your success in this world is in direct proportion to your ability to acquire these things.
It has been interesting to hear different people's reactions to my career change this year. Those who's treasure system is the world's have a very difficult time understanding why I would resign as vice president of a successful construction company, that I may have had an opportunity to join in ownership at some point in the future, to move, take a pay cut, and be a worship minister. From a business perspective, that is just plain stupid. And it’s pretty easy to tell by some people’s reactions that is exactly what they are thinking.
But as a disciple of Christ, both my citizenship and my treasure are in heaven. I don’t require a $300,000 house, a $50,000 company automobile, or a prestigious job title to feel like I’m somebody. My value was set when the Creator decided I was worth the cost of His one and only Son. Nothing I acquire in this world will make me worth any more, and my lack of these things does not make me worth any less.
This world is not my home, I’m just a passin’ through.
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.
I imagine I’ll always feel like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs when I go to Norman, Oklahoma (home of the Sooners). That is most definitely NOT home!